Mark Johnston

Special

In the corners of my mind I can recall a card I received as a child from some well-meaning person that read something like this: 

God thinks you’re special, and so do I.

Does he really?  Think I’m special?

The idea that God might single any one of us out for extra attention is vaguely comforting.  And there are certainly times when we feel a bit extraordinary:

• When we achieve something important
• When we acquire something significant
• When things simply go our way

But for all of those times there are as many, if not more, occasions to feel decidedly un-special.  Ordinary.  Impossible to tell apart from anyone else.  And consequently maybe even a little overlooked.

By God.

After all, out of several billion people on this planet what’s so special about any one of us?  That question rings loudest in the “other” seasons:

• When we fail to achieve something important (or someone else achieves something even more important)
• When we lose something significant
• When things simply don’t go our way

In times like these, we face the gut-wrenching suspicion that maybe we’re not that special after all.

One author, in an effort to convince us that we’re each very exceptional in God’s eyes wrote, “If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it.”*

That’s nice.  But some of us wonder when we hear that, which picture?  The one of me smiling at church on Sunday?  Or the one of me losing my temper with my teenager on Monday?

(Also, my refrigerator is stainless steel – so I can’t put a magnet on it or it just falls off.  Some of us wonder if God’s fridge is like that too: he puts our picture up there, but the minute we screw up it falls back off.)

So what’s the deal: are we special, or not?

Yes we are.  As tempting as it may be to believe, God doesn’t look at us as we look at ants: as a mass of scurrying creatures, each indistinguishable from the others.

He sees you as special.  God has the unique ability to see you and each of the 7 billion other people on this planet as singularly wonderful.  He knows each of us by name.  He saw you slay that job interview and stumble in that relationship.  And he can love you well without comparing you to anyone else.

Jesus says he has even numbered the very hairs on our head (Matthew 10:30).  (If you’re bald, don’t worry: you’re still special – I’m pretty sure it’s more of a word picture.)

God may not have a Kenmore with your picture on it, but he does have a plan with your name on it.  And all of your succeeding and stopping short – your doing well and ending up disappointed – can’t change that.

God thinks you’re special.  And so do I.  Maybe we should both act like it.

*I believe this quote can be attributed to Max Lucado, but I can’t be certain.

Force of Habit

Do you want to be successful?

I bet you do.  And I bet like me you’ve had a big misconception about successful people – whether their achievements are related to their spirituality, relationships, influence, finances, or health. 

We assume thriving people must lead lives filled with constant innovation; that all their waking moments must be spent thinking creative thoughts and doing new and exciting things.

While the rest of us are merely creatures of habit.

Nothing could be further from the truth.  We beat ourselves up for not being more inventive or intelligent or willing to take risks, when the reality is we are all living out of force of habit.  Successful or unsuccessful, focused or faltering.  Doing things out of habit isn’t the problem.

Consider two people.  Both have to be at work at 8:15am.  The night before, one falls asleep watching TV at 11:45 – because that’s their habit.  The alarm goes off at 6:45, but they hit snooze three times before finally dragging themselves out of bed – because that’s their habit.  By now it’s 7:20, so the rest of their habits kick in: quick cup of coffee and a Pop Tart; shower, throw on some clothes, and make the 20 minute drive to work (humming absent-mindedly along to “Call Me Maybe”).

The second person goes to bed at 10:00, after reading for a few minutes to calm their mind.  The alarm goes off at 5:45 and they get up.  They spend 30 minutes reading the scriptures and praying about their day.  At 6:20, they go for a 30 minute walk/jog.  Back before 7:00, they cook a simple healthy breakfast and spend a few minutes looking over their calendar for the week before taking a shower, putting on some clothes, and making the 20 minute drive to work (listening to a message on podcast).

Both people got the same amount of sleep.  Both ate breakfast.  Both drove to work.  And both did it all out of force of habit.  The second person didn’t have to be exponentially more creative, inventive, or intelligent than the first.  But after a few years, someone will look at where they’ve arrived in life and sigh, “Must be nice.”

No, must be habit.  Because it isn’t about whether or not you and I have habits; it’s simply about which habits we have.  The habits that lead to a successful life are surprisingly simple and unglamorous.  They don’t require huge, extended periods of inspiration – just firm decisions about what we’re going to spend our time doing or not doing.

Do you want to be successful?  The biggest chance you have isn’t changing your job, your geography, your financial status, or your intelligence level.  It’s changing your habits.

May the force be with you.

(Want to hear more about the power of habit?  I recently taught about it at The Journey in a message called “Preparation H”.

Brush Your Teeth and Shave Your Face

There’s something in your life you may not even realize is there: a largely invisible, often seemingly innocuous, ever present threat to your soul.

Resentment.

That may spark any number of responses.  “You’d better believe I’m resentful – and with good reason.”  Or, “Sure I struggle with some bitterness, but nothing unmanageable.” Perhaps even, “I honestly don’t think I have any resentment in my life right now.”

In the words of the great poet of old (Ice Cube): “You’d better check yourself… before you wreck yourself.”

I think we tend to view resentment as a growth that’s removed via one-time spiritual surgery – like a wart or tumor or mole.  Burn/freeze/slice it off and it’s gone forever.  But I’ve come to believe it’s actually something that’s always in danger of growing back – like film on our teeth or stubble on our faces in the mornings.

Who or what we’re resentful about may change.  Individual offenses may even completely clear up.  But if allowed, resentment itself will quickly find a new reason to reappear.

Paul in the Bible knew about this.  Resentment threatened to form on the teeth of his heart and grow on the face of his soul just like it does on ours – even after he became a follower of Jesus.  For instance, Paul had a colleague and friend named Demas.  Demas was important enough to Paul to be mentioned more than once in the scriptures:

Epaphras, my fellow prisoner in Christ Jesus, sends you his greetings. So do Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, and Luke, my co-workers (Philemon 23,24). 

Luke, the beloved doctor, sends his greetings, and so does Demas (Colossians 4:14). 

Seems Paul and Demas were pretty tight.  Co-workers in a passion that loomed larger than either of them: advancing the message of Jesus.  Then something went wrong.

Demas has deserted me because he loves the things of this life (2 Timothy 4:10).

Paul woke up one morning with plaque on his teeth and a shadow on his face.  He had a decision to make.  He could pretend it didn’t bother him.  He could retaliate.  He could let himself become obsessed until his teeth rotted out of his head and a bitterness beard stretched to his belly button.

Instead, Demas’ betrayal became simply a single sentence in Paul’s story.  He went on to trust other people, forgiving the ones who let him down, and didn’t mention Demas’ disloyalty again.

People are going to fail you.  No matter how close we get to Jesus, every morning you and I spend on earth we will wake up to a film on our teeth or stubble on our face.  We can be shocked by it, downplay it, brood over it, or pretend we don’t care.

Or we can brush our teeth.  Shave our face.  Even though we know we’ll have to do it again tomorrow.

When you’re betrayed, in big ways and small, don’t pretend it’s no big deal.  And don’t let it linger.  Write that single sentence.  Then move on with your story.

 

In Betweeners

Recently a guy who’s been attending The Journey for some time stopped by to chat.  We made some small talk and then he asked a question – a question I could tell had been weighing on him for some time:

“I’m not a first-timer, but I’ve lived my life believing that things are what you make of them so I wouldn’t say Jesus is my savior or anything yet either… I guess I’m kind of an in-betweener.  Is there a place for me here?”

I’m in a Life Group that’s reading through the book of Mark.  Last week we came across this verse:

Later, Levi invited Jesus and his disciples to his home as dinner guests, along with many tax collectors and other disreputable sinners. (There were many people of this kind among Jesus’ followers) (Mark 2:15 – NLT).

There were many people of this kind among Jesus’ followers.  Not on the fringes. Not in the cheap seats.  Among Jesus’ followers.

Unconvinced.  Unsure.  Not quite ready.  Not yet surrendered.

In between.

Levi (Matthew) had already decided to serve Jesus by this time.  Some of the people he invited over were likely first-timers, new to Jesus and his ministry.  But Mark pauses parenthetically to tell us something very important: among Jesus’ followers, there were many who were in between.

Does that catch you off guard?  It did me.  And apparently it threw the religious leaders for a loop as well:

But when the teachers of religious law who were Pharisees saw him eating with tax collectors and other sinners, they asked his disciples, “Why does he eat with such scum” (16)?

Eating together in this culture meant more than grabbing a bite at Applebee’s with a few acquaintances.  It was a sign of friendship.  To share a table was to send a message: I have something in common with this person and we’re celebrating it; spending this time together eating and drinking and enjoying each other’s company.

It’s easy to understand why Jesus connected with his disciples.  And why he was compassionate toward first-timers.  But what about the in-betweeners?  Shouldn’t they have gotten it by now?

He’s glad you asked:

When Jesus heard this, he told them, “Healthy people don’t need a doctor—sick people do. I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners” (17).

Sometimes it takes a while to figure out we’re sinners.  Weren’t we all “in between” at some point, even if just for a season?  Caught between faith and doubt, surrender and selfishness, our sin and Christ’s salvation?

I hope my friend will soon come to Jesus.  And I told him that.  But I also let him know that in the meantime, we’ll keep providing a place where he can be in between.  We’ll respect where he is in his spiritual journey.  We won’t marginalize him because he hasn’t bought in yet.  And we’ll do that for as long as it takes.

After all, Jesus did.

Oops

Everybody makes mistakes.

Successful people make mistakes.  Lots of them.  You’ve heard all the clichés about that.

Unsuccessful people make mistakes too.  In fact, I’m not certain there’s a big difference in the number of mistakes successful people make versus the number unsuccessful people make.

But if there isn’t a noticeable difference in amount, there certainly is in kind.

Mistakes made attempting new things are part of success. Mistakes made executing established things eventually lead to decline.

And that, it seems to me, is a key difference between the mistakes people who thrive tend to make and the mistakes people who are stuck tend to make.

Growing people make most of their errors while reaching toward new ground.  Stagnant people make most of their errors on the same ground they’ve been inhabiting for months… years… even decades.

When our 11 year old headed into middle school, we expected her to struggle a little the first few weeks.  She had a new environment, schedule, and level of expectations to contend with.  She was bound to make some mistakes.  We weren’t too concerned. 

We would have been if she were 17 and smart enough to succeed, but re-doing 5^th grade for the seventh time instead.

Some of us make the mistake of saying the wrong thing while on a date with our spouse.  It happens to everyone.  But some of us make the mistake of not scheduling a date night, again and again.  Two different kinds of mistakes: one is recoverable; the other in the long run is not.  One is made on the way to a stronger bond; the other on the way to a deepening distance.

Some of us make the mistake of getting busy and missing one of our exercise days.  Some of us make the mistake of not exercising.  Two different kinds of mistakes: one is made on the way to health; the other on the way to heart disease.  (Okay, that was blunt: but I needed to hear it.)

Some of us make the mistake of cheering too loudly for our kids at their soccer game.  Some of us make the mistake of dropping them off so we can go do something else.  Two different kinds of mistakes: one is made on the way to a greater respect for our kids’ unique personality, the other on the way to forfeiting a meaningful relationship with them.

Some of us will make the mistake of only being finished 80% of the one year Bible plan we committed to when December 31^st rolls around.  Some of us will have made the mistake of not reading the Bible.  Two different kinds… well, I think it’s starting to sink in.

What kind of mistakes do you tend to make?  Errors that accompany a passionate reach for greater connection, health, and spiritual vitality?  Or blunders that arise from passively struggling to execute the basics of your relationships, fitness, and disciplines?

Go make some mistakes today.  Just not the same old ones.

585

On the last Sunday of August, I asked Journeyers to write down 1, 2, or 3 names of people we’d like to see find Jesus this fall.  (You can hear that message, “The Commission” – the final one of the series “Once Upon a Time” – by clicking HERE.)  We wrote with black sharpies on nine giant white sticky note sheets posted around the auditorium.

A couple of members from our prayer team spent that afternoon praying over those names.  The following Saturday, a couple dozen more praying people called each one out to God as well.

How many names?  585.

585 friends, coworkers, neighbors, and family members.  585 reasons to reach out.  585 opportunities for an invitation to be extended and accepted, and for a life to change.

How many of those 585 people are going to experience God this fall?  How many of them will be inspired by worship… hear the message of Jesus in a way they can understand and relate to… have a conversation over a cup of coffee in the café that makes them want to come back again?

I don’t know how many.  But as we get ready to kick off the fall with two new Saturday night gatherings and Hot Seat Weekend, I’m praying for all 585.

Why not?

One of those 585 names was simply “me.”  Someone at The Journey wrote themselves down as the person they’d most like to see find Jesus this fall.

Whoever you are, I’m praying for you especially.

…And if someone asks about your Christian hope, always be ready to explain it (1 Peter 3:15 – NLT).

Please Excuse the Mess, Jesus

It’s a scurry we’ve all experienced.  Friends are popping by.  Your mom will be in town for a few days.  You’re hosting a party. 

Someone is coming over and the house isn’t clean.

We race around tossing dishes in the dishwasher, blitzing the living room, carrying an armful of stray shoes upstairs, and closing the doors to the rooms that are really bad.  Wives bark at husbands; husbands roll their eyes at wives; innocent children are caught in the crossfire.  And when our guests arrive, what’s the first thing we say after hello?

“Please excuse the mess.”

I’m a bit of a neat freak.  Not over the top; I just like things tidy.  And while I can usually handle living in a less than immaculate environment for a while, I don’t like anyone else to see it. 

So if you’re coming over, we’re cleaning up.

But there are times when it’s just too much.  Company will be arriving in a few minutes and there’s hours’ worth of work to do.  That’s when it’s tempting to change our plans.

I’ve realized I have a tendency to cancel with Jesus because I assume my life isn’t clean enough for his company.  Just let me straighten my heart, I think; organize my thoughts, pull together my soul.  I don’t want you to see all this clutter.  Give me a few minutes; days; weeks.  Once the place is spruced up a little, I’ll invite you in.

My son sings a song about a guy named Zacchaeus in the Bible.  He was a wee little man.  He climbed up in a Sycamore tree.  Jesus told him, “Zacchaeus, you come down; I’m coming to your house for tea.”

Zacchaeus’ house was messy!  It was littered with lies, dusty with decades of demands made on others, and thick with theft.  But Jesus insisted on coming over.

So Zach “took Jesus to his house in great excitement and joy” (Luke 19:6).  Of course, once they got there it was clear how filthy it really was; and Zacchaeus offered to clean up: ““I will give half my wealth to the poor, Lord…” (Luke 19:8).

A couple of months ago, we had some friends over on a Sunday night.  We tidied the best we could, but it had been a long week.  And since our company featured small kids, our house didn’t get any neater throughout the evening.

At one point I looked in our kitchen and saw one of our friends quietly sweeping the floor.  (That’s a true friend!)  See a clean house is better, and so is a clean heart.  But although we usually scurry around straightening things before our guests arrive, Jesus invites us to experience him in the midst of our mess.

So he can help us clean it up.

Jesus didn’t wait for Zacchaeus to sanitize his soul before visiting his home.  He came over in spite of the chaos.

Please excuse the mess, Jesus.  But come on in anyway.  Let’s work on this together.

That Hurt My Failings

Earlier this week, I tweeted: “It's not so much that we get our feelings hurt as it is that we get our failings hurt.  Unresolved guilt is a root of much of our insecurity.”

When I’m feeling threatened or insecure, it’s often because I’m hyper-aware of how flawed I am – how much I’ve failed in the past (or am even stumbling in the present).

How can we overcome insecurity based on our screw-ups and inadequacies?  I’ll admit, there’s no easy fix.  But there are some reminders that can keep us from getting our failings hurt as often or as deeply:

• Remember the race you’re running.  That would be the human race.  All of the runners around you, in our own ways, are as messed up as you are.  The point isn’t pretended perfection, but movement toward the finish line of God’s best.  Your sins (past and present) aren’t as unique as you’re tempted to think they are… God isn’t surprised by them and others aren’t exempt from them.  So when you feel like no one anywhere has ever failed as epically as you have, think again.  We’re in this together.

• Remember to be honest.  I’ve heard people talk about leaders who “fall” into game-changing sins like adultery and embezzlement.  The fact is, nobody “falls” into sin like that.  We stroll into it, step into it, and dive headlong into it; we don’t just accidentally fall.  James says that, Temptation comes from our own desires, which entice us and drag us away. These desires give birth to sinful actions. And when sin is allowed to grow, it gives birth to death (1:14,15 – NLT).  There’s a process involved.  What stops that process in its tracks is getting honest about where we are in it.  Honesty saps the strength from sin.  Find someone you trust and tell them exactly, precisely how you’ve failed in the past or are struggling in the present.

• Remember who you’re following.  How did you become a believer in Jesus in the first place?  By overcoming your sins on your own?  By proving to God that you were good enough to deserve forgiveness?  Nope.  It happened entirely by grace through faith.  Grace met you at the point of your failings; and faith received that grace as an undeserved gift.  That same grace covers you now.  Your identity is not in your performance, it’s in Christ.  When you’re feeling insecure about your failings, whether distant or recent, go back to your Leader and Lord and let him remind you who you are in him – and let the same grace that saved you then forgive and relieve you now. 

Last year, I preached about sin to The Journey.  But not just everyone else’s sins: mine (pretty descriptively actually).  You can hear that message HERE. 

You don’t have to live a life filled with hurt failings.  You’re a child of God.

How Deep is Their Well?

When I was in college, one of my professors took an interest in my development as a leader.  I was rough around the edges, but he created space for me.  He asked probing questions, offered pointed encouragement, and provided occasional correction.  He saw purpose in my life and coaxed out of me more than I even knew was there.

It’s one of the critical functions of leadership: to lower large buckets of time and intentionality into the wells of people’s lives and help them draw up potential they may not even know exists. 

The central motive of a healthy leader (after honoring God) is the development of others into the very best versions of themselves.  We draw purpose out of people by identifying their potential, offering them opportunities to practice, and stretching their capacity.

Often this means sacrificing our own interests, projects, and ultimately egos in order to pour into others.  At times it requires the courage to have hard conversations and a willingness to hold people with a loose grip.

Every person on this planet is a well, and the more promise someone possesses, the deeper their well will be.  The deeper the well, the longer it takes to lower the bucket… and the longer it takes to pull it back, full of results, to the surface.

Great leaders know how to draw purpose out of people – relentlessly encouraging them when they struggle to believe they can win, almost ruthlessly confronting them when they knowingly fall short of giving their best, and constantly shaping a relationship with them that can bear these ups and downs.  That takes patience, guts, and selflessness on the part of the leader… and requires humility, commitment, and security on the part of the person being developed.

Leaders who take shortcuts try to pull the bucket up too quickly (letting people with potential lead too fast, too soon).  Leaders with an inferiority complex pull the bucket up too slowly (letting people with potential fade away, never fully tapped).  Leaders with insight pull the bucket up with an intentional pace – a little slower than they’d sometimes like, a little faster than others are comfortable with – hand over hand, day after day, week after week.  They pull the best out of people knowing that as they do they are putting the best back into people: the power and poise to lead.

The purposes of a person's heart are deep waters,
but one who has insight draws them out
(Proverbs 20:5 – NIV).

If you’re a leader responsible for developing others, whose purpose are you drawing out?  Who on your team needs a word of encouragement?  A challenging conversation?  An intentional plan to grow?  Who is waiting in the wings, a deep well that hasn’t been tapped yet?

How about your own development?  Do you have someone helping you haul the bucket of your potential to the surface?  Are you submitted to the process, or impatient and frustrated?

All You Ever Do Is Complain!

A long time ago in a land far away lived a leader who was criticized. His name was Moses, and he was leading a group of people through the wilderness on their way to a land promised by God. Many of the people were picky, selfish, and prone to complaining. Usually, Moses handled this well. But on one occasion, at a place called Meribah, he lost it:

At Meribah, too, they angered the LORD,

causing Moses serious trouble.

They made Moses angry,

and he spoke foolishly (Psalm 106:32,33 – NLT).

Leadership is risky business and this is one reason why. Criticism in general is valuable: the greater our influence becomes, the more we need (and if we’re healthy, seek) critical feedback. But there’s another kind of criticism that is dangerous to our souls: the unfounded kind that comes from chronic complainers rather than thoughtful supporters. That kind can leave us bitter instead of better. (It might be part of the reason 57% of pastors say that they would leave the ministry if they had another career option*.)

Here are some things to remember the next time you’re criticized:

• A gentle answer deflects anger (Proverbs 15:1 – NLT).  Angry, accusing words displease God and provoke people… whether they come from critics or the ones they criticize. The book of Numbers tells us that at Meribah, Moses spoke “rash words” against the people. Don’t fall into the trap of trading verbal blows – if you’re right in your point but wrong in your posture, you don’t win. You can answer gently when you realize that:
• It’s not about you. When Samuel was criticized by the great-great-great grandchildren of the people who denounced Moses, God reminded him: “it is me they are rejecting, not you” (I Samuel 8:7 – NLT). The temptation when we’re disparaged is to defend our reputation. That’s a distraction. Leadership isn’t about us; it’s about a higher good we are working to accomplish. Have enough confidence in the priority of that vision to defend it, not yourself. This is possible when you understand that:
• It’s only for a season. The crazy thing about Moses dropping the ball at Meribah is that they’d been wandering in the wilderness for 39 years. In less than a year, the wandering would end and they would enter the Promised Land. For 39 years Moses endured their complaints; but less than 12 months before his destiny was realized, he melted down. If only he’d remembered that:
• Your critics can’t determine your future, but how you respond to them can. After Moses reacted at Meribah he tried to convince God he was sorry, to no avail. He was prohibited from entering the Promised Land. This was the “serious trouble” the people caused him. If you're leading people (and yourself) somewhere good, you’ll never make it if you get lured into resentment.

In leadership, criticism is as inevitable as rain in Seattle. Don’t let it sidetrack you into reacting foolishly. Lead well.

*The stat about pastors leaving the ministry is from a 2010 New York Times article.